A lesson of life
by Arianka
Summary: Amras takes Dinessel to teach her hunting, but Middle Earth is no longer a safe place. Happens a few months after Doriath Kinslaying.
1. Chapter 1

Another story from my feanorian series. Can be read separately, but I use OCs I created in earlier stories.

* * *

**Chapter I**

The day was already close to its end, but the group of elves travelling through the forest didn't intend to slow down. The winter had been long and hard, and though they had returned to the fortress with reduced forces after the unsuccessful attack on Doriath, their supplies had grown thin. The lands north to Amon Ereb were full of the Enemy's servants, making them desolate and dangerous. Amras had decided to travel east, but it soon turned out that they had to go farther from home in hope for a better prey. The scouts had been sent to find the best place.

One of the elves sent for the patrol returned hastily, signalling from afar that he had urgent news. Amras moved to the front of the group and joined him. He listened to the short report and nodded in thanks.

"It seems our plans for today have just changed," he hissed. "We are going to hunt something else first."

The hunters' behaviour changed at once. Sharp smiles appeared on some faces, the bows and spears were replaced by swords. The few remaining archers made sure their weapons were ready.

"W-what?"

In the silence of the forest the question seemed loud and out of place. Dinessel, who accompanied the group, moved forward. She blushed under the gazes of the hunters, though most of them were friendly and treated he like a nice change in their normal patrol.

"Orcs," someone said indifferently.

This one word was like a dark spell. Dinessel stiffened and glanced behind her shoulder, as if expecting danger. Amras caught her pleading gaze and sighed inwardly. Some things didn't change.

"We will hunt later," he explained impatiently, but then thought better of it. He came closer and placed his hand on the girl's shoulder. "Keep close to the archers and stay away from the direct fight. Shoot only when you have a clear shot," he reminded her sternly. "But don't hesitate. Shoot like we taught you."

"I will..." Just like the other elves, Dinessel made sure her arrows would go out easily from the quiver and that her arm brace was well fastened.

One of the archers smiled encouragingly, inviting her to join them. Amras turned back to the scout to ask about more details, then divided his elves into two groups and they moved on.

xxx

They fell on the orcs like a storm, using full impact. The orcs were few and the elves had the element of surprise and the protection of the archers, so the enemy didn't stand a chance.

Though Amras was as skilled with a bow as he was with a sword, he chose the latter this time. The anger boiling in him since the defeat in Doriath finally found a way out. The steel shone in precise movements and orcs fell under the elves' attack. Morgoth's creatures scared away the animals and came closer and closer, so the elves were eager to clean their ground, if just a bit.

What nobody said aloud was that everyone was glad to face an enemy that was not an elf, one that could be eliminated with satisfaction and the feeling of doing the right thing. Each killed orc was a small victory over Morgoth; a desperate one, but a victory nonetheless.

Soon it was over.

"This group was too small to have come this far alone," said Amras and sashed his sword. "Once we are back in the fortress, we will have to increase patrols. We cannot let them any closer."

"No one will object," someone replied, still bent over an orc he had just killed.

Amras nodded and asked louder. "Anyone's hurt? Anything worrisome?" he looked around his elves. "Dine-"

"She ran away," replied the archer who was supposed to look after her. "I saw her shooting with us, but then I told her to stay behind. This must have been too much for her."

"Orcs?"

"None left alive, my lord," someone reassured him. "Nothing that could harm her."

"And here I thought it's over,' Amras sighed in annoyance. "Well. Find her and bring her back to the camp," he ordered and chose the elves who were supposed to look for the child. The other, smaller group was to return and collect the spears. He went with the first one.

xxx

Bregnir walked through the forest, searching for places a scared girl could have picked as a hideout. He could see that Amras's elves did not take well the prospect of searching for a child in the woods; the case of Dior's abandoned sons was still too fresh.

He was alone. If he wanted, he could have walked away and never see the Kinslayers again. Theoretically. Whatever he thought of the sons of Feanor, he had to admit they were right. In many miles around Amon Ereb there were only few Noldor settlements and the way to Sirion was one he would probably not manage alone. There, as he had heard, his kinsmen had fled from Doriath.

There was no point in deluding himself. He didn't know these lands and even if he had managed to evade the enemies, he would probably get lost.

Bregnir sighed and picked a trail that could have been Dinessel's. So far he had enjoyed freedom in this captivity; greater than he had expected. He had thought he would be held prisoner, yet he had simply become one of the dwellers of the fortress. He had been given duties, easy at first, and when he had recovered from his wounds, one of Amras's scouts had brought him weapons and said they were leaving for a hunt the next morning at dawn. Bregnir had probably failed to hide his surprise, for the Noldo had warned him not to do anything stupid. It was easy to add the rest. _If you want to escape, then go. But try to use that weapon against any of us, let alone our lords, and there will be no healer around to keep you alive this time. You are a part of our group now, deal with it and make yourself useful_.

As he walked, he could feel his frustration growing. Even though Dinessel had stayed away from him since their first unfortunate encounter, Bregnir, like all the others, wished her to be safe. Even if in that case it meant living with the Kinslayers.

He found her. There was a visible trail leading from the stream to a clump of young spruces growing nearby. He could see small shoes under the lowest branches.

"Get out from there," he said harshly. "Dinessel, did you hear me? That's enough." The hunter crouched impatiently, for the girl didn't move. A bit worried, he moved the nearest branch aside, and when it caused no reaction either, he grabbed the legs and pulled.

The girl yelped as if he had hurt her. She tried to kick and tossed, but the elf pinned her to the ground.

"Calm down, Dinessel! You are safe!" he growled, for she had almost kicked his chin. He turned her on her back and grabbed her wrist when he noticed a knife in her small hand.

Dinessel choked when she realised it was an elf who prevented her from attacking. She ceased struggling.

"Let me go," she sniffled. "It hurts."

Bregnir loosened his grip and retrieved the knife. Dinessel sat, miserable, and stared at the ground. She had a stripe on her cheek where a branch must have hit her.

"Have you gone mad?" asked Bregnir sharply. "You are safe with us, not on your own. Are you hurt?"

"N-no," muttered the girl and rose stiffly. As soon as she was up, the elf grabbed her arm.

"Back to the camp. You'd better not run away again, your lord is furious," he warned her and led her hastily between the trees, indifferent to the tears running down her cheeks.

xxx

Everybody was back in the camp within an hour. The commander was one of the last to return; he and his companion came with a deer, which they passed along to be prepared for dinner.

Amras glanced at the girl who had caused them so much trouble. Dinessel was sitting to the side, covered with a cloak, with her knees dragged up to her chin. Her tussled, half-dried braids were full of needles and she had a nasty weal on her cheek, but seemed otherwise unharmed. When she noticed him, she stopped staring at her feet and moved, but Amras motioned her to stay seated. He temporarily ignored her scared eyes following him and made sure that everybody was back and that the guards had been appointed. Only then did he come back to his ward.

"Look at you."

Dinessel, left alone by the rest of the group, sprang on her feet at his disapproval.

"Go, make yourself presentable," Amras told her and pointed at the stream. "Just don't go too far, nobody wishes to search for you again."

"Yes, my lord." Dinessel nodded and went hastily to the water. It seemed that the hint of annoyance in her favourite guardian's voice was enough to almost make her cry.

Amras gave her a moment to wash away the dirt, making sure that she stayed close. They still had some time before the dinner would be ready, so he intended to use it to settle certain matters. He joined Dinessel as she was trying to comb the needles from her hair. He wasn't really surprised to see that her eyes were wet.

"Now, that's much better," he spoke calmly and sat beside her at the edge of the stream. He pulled a twig from her silver hair and tossed it to the water.

Dinessel nodded and dragged her knees to her chin, wiping her wet hands against her trousers. She stared at her boots again.

"Can you tell me what was that?" Amras quickly came to terms that she would not speak willingly. "Why did you run? It was foolish."

"I was scared." Dinessel sniffled and shuddered at the memory. "I'm sorry, I just wanted..."

"Hush." Amras stopped her. "My intention was to take you hunting and teach you, not to confront you with fighting orcs," he admitted. "The problem is, as you can see, that we cannot predict everything. When you come with us, you have to be prepared for any situation. None of us can promise you that we won't meet the enemy. But the important thing is that you have to obey orders in such cases."

The girl rested her chin on her knees and muttered something. Amras suspected she would have clang to him, had she dared, but clearly she thought he was cross with her, for she didn't move.

"You had every right to be scared, you are but a child." Amras spoke again, deciding that some matters had to be cleared. "When we were your age, Celegorm wouldn't even hear of taking us hunting," he added unexpectedly, more to himself than his little companion. "And we were safe there..."

"We?" Dinessel asked quietly and Amras immediately cursed his comment.

"My twin brother and I," he replied shortly. "Ambarto died long time ago," he explained dryly. The dark sky illuminated by the fire appeared before his eyes and was soon replaced by the corridors of Menegroth. Since Amras had first seen what fire could do to a body, he was grateful he never had a chance to say farewell to his twin.

"I didn't know..."

"It was a long time ago." Amras cut off the matter. He had taken the girl to distract his dark thoughts with teaching, not to dwell on memories. "Right now I am interested in your running away."

Dinessel just nodded again and was silent for a while, and when she finally spoke, she would not look at her guardian.

"It was the first time I saw them since..." The girl worked up the courage and moved closer. Not long ago she would have climbed on Amras's knees without even asking. "They told me to hide, my mum..."

"You have every right to be afraid of them," repeated Amras. "But if you are scared, come to us. To me, to Himeleth, to anyone. We are safer together. Your running forced me to split our forces. It is easier to trap and catch a lone elf. You cannot act like that."

"I won't."

"I cannot promise you that one day we won't run across a party we won't be able defeat," Amras admitted grimly. He wasn't going to promise impossible things. Knowing how desperately they needed more warriors hurt like a strap rubbing against the skin. Each fight now was only prolonging the inevitable end.

Dinessel must have sensed his grim mood, for she shuddered and moved even closer. Amras let her lean against his shoulder and remembered Caranthir, who would purposely drop her on his knees when she was smaller.

"Why are you so wet?" he asked suddenly as the girl's braid rubbed against his wrist.

"I slipped on the stones and fell into the stream," Dinessel admitted in embarrassment. "I didn't look, I just wanted to run away..."

"Then go back to the fire, help with the dinner and dry your clothes," Amras told her. "And first of all, dry your shoes, or you will be very unhappy tomorrow with sore feet."

"Tomorrow...?"

"What did you think?" Amras snorted in amusement. "You won't learn much if you just look after the fire."

The girl's eyes livened and brightened with small hope. Amras felt good when he reached to his belt and retrieved the knife Bregnir had given him back.

"This belongs to you, I guess," he said and returned the weapon. Dinessel grasped the knife and hid it like a treasure.

When he had given her that knife before they left, he had only said that it had been made by Curufin. He had asked his brother once to prepare such thing for his little ward, but Curufin never made it. Amras picked from his forge one that he knew had been made by his brother. Dinessel didn't need to know that.

* * *

Thank you for reading. What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II**

The girl's enthusiasm was almost contagious. Amras watched her rise long before the dawn as one of the first elves, then bustle around the camp. She glanced at him from time to time with poorly hidden impatience, so when everybody was ready and the groups left for the hunt, leaving Amras to take care of Dinessel, she almost hugged him.

It was rather nice, teaching. Dinessel was this far from the safety of the fortress for the first time in a very long time and she asked endless questions, leaving Amras no time to think of anything else. She seemed to blend in with the forest, naturally becoming a part of it, and she listened to her guardian's every word.

Amras led her through the forest, searching for the signs of the animals' presence and explaining differences in the tropes. He didn't count much on actually shooting something, but he had no intention to waste an opportunity, should it occur. The first deer they saw he used only to explain his ward how to shoot between the trees and where to aim. They were not yet returning to the camp and killing the deer would mean carrying additional weight.

Dinessel was a bit disappointed he didn't let her try, but didn't complain, probably still remembering the conversation from the previous day about the importance of following orders. Amras promised her she would be able to shoot if they got another chance, so when he spotted a lone young stag at the opposite site of the ravine they were following, he gestured the girl to stop. He led her closer, hiding behind the bushes, thick yet small enough to allow a clear shot.

"May I?" Dinessel whispered when she found the right position.

"Don't hurry." Amras leaned to assess the shooting possibility. "It can neither see nor smell us, it's eating. Focus and aim well. It's not a hay target."

The girl nodded and strung the bow. The string sang softly as the arrow flew above the ravine and hit the stag, which cried out and disappeared on the other side.

"Oh!" Dinessel jumped up, trying to see her prey.

"You hit it," Amras remarked calmly. "It probably won't run far. We need to find it and kill it anyway, or else, if the wound was not mortal, it will suffer."

At these words Dinessel ran from behind the bushes and towards her prey.

"Wait!" Amras called after her, but she was too excited to pay attention. It was understandable, yet could lead into a dangerous situation, so Amras followed her down the ravine.

A metallic sound and an explosion of pain in his leg seized him. He fell forwards, softening the impact of the fall with his hands at the very last moment. His instincts screamed to get up but something held him. Yet no attack came.

Amras's pained cry made Dinessel halt. The girl looked back, alarmed, and when she saw that her guardian was not standing up, she turned back. Meanwhile Amras shook off the initial shock and sat. He cursed when he realised what was the source of the excruciating pain. His left calf was caught in a trap, its steel teeth cutting deep into his muscles.

A wave of fury washed over him. No elf used such barbaric methods and even humans, should they happen to live nearby, were quickly taught that no one would tolerate such bestiality.

"What is this?" Dinessel dropped by him and stared at his soaking trouser leg.

"A mantrap," Amras couldn't help but growl. "I need to open it. When I pull the sides apart, you will help me set my leg free," he instructed and the girl nodded. "Grab by the knee. No, not so low, I don't want it to trap your fingers. Ready?"

The trap was strong and the mechanism rusty, and Amras could hardly get a good hold for his fingers without cutting them. He was grateful for his thick gloves, which provided at least some protection. Finally he managed to grasp the parts tight and pulled.

"No-" The next order was replaced by a cry when the steel slipped from Amras's hands and closed again on his leg a little below from the bloody line left by the teeth. The elf pressed the back of his hand to his mouth and closed his eyes as he felt the wave of nausea. He exhaled deeply a few times and said. "I need a thick branch, one that will block the mechanism. Find me something."

Short, direct orders seemed to keep Dinessel at check. The girl nodded again, as if she couldn't trust her voice. But before she rose, Amras grabbed her arm and covered her mouth.

Someone was there on the other side of the ravine, where the stag had disappeared. Someone was moving swiftly, but the steps were too short and hasty to be made by elves. Dinessel choked and went limp in her guardian's embrace. Amras pulled her and they both fell on the ground. She too realised it wasn't anyone from their group.

"Hush."

They lied motionless until the sounds moved away. The orcs went on, but Amras had no doubt it was only the matter of time until they discovered their dead or dying stag. He breathed deeply and for a moment regarded his companion judgingly. Dinessel was laying flat beside him, torn between his order keeping her in place and her desire to run away, which could only hasten their doom. He had to act. Now.

"You need to shoot them."

"What?" Dinessel whispered in astonishment. She had blood from his glove smeared over her chin and cheek, but she seemed not to notice that.

"They will come back," explained the son of Feanor. "When they find the stag, they will be more careful. More vigilant. They will find us here, so you have to go and meet them. Don't let them see you and shoot as many as you can. You will be safe."

"I can't," pleaded the girl. "N-no."

"If you don't, you may have a life of an elf on your hands," Amras growled, seeing her hesitation. "Believe me, you don't want to."

Her hands, clenched on her bow, were shaking, and she stared at him in terror.

"You probably won't manage to run far, but I will die first if they find us here," Amras repeated sharply, trying to ignore the pain radiating up to his knee. "If I'm lucky. You stand no chance in a direct fight, but you can shoot well. You can do it, go. Or leave me here and run. Now, because soon it will be too late."

He could see the conflict in the girl and her terror. If he had pushed her too hard and she would run ahead blindly... But no. Dinessel swallowed and looked up. She nodded and got up, then started climbing up the ravine. Amras knew that should she not succeed, the gaze of her silver eyes was going to haunt him. Provided that he lived, of course.

There was no time for idle wondering. Amras gritted his teeth and pushed himself up, placing all his weight on his good leg. He stood for a moment and listened, his hand clenched on his sword. At first he heard calling as the orcs probably found the stag. Then over a conversation, muffled by the distance, a painful cry could be heard. Amras bared his teeth in a smile. Dinessel must have reached one of them.

Another cry and tumult then the clatter of steel as the orcs tried to flee. The youngest son of Feanor stood firmly and corrected the grip on his sword. And waited.

To his advantage, they didn't notice he was trapped, only smelled his blood. Two attacked in hope for an easy victory, but Amras wasted no time. He blocked a blow and attacked with speed no orc could match. He had to turn towards the second one and the trap pulled at his leg, and almost knocked him off balance. The harder he attacked, not waiting for the enemies to notice what his weakness was.

He wasn't so lucky with the third one. The orc jumped at him from behind and tripped him over. Amras hissed in pain and disgust as he felt the foul hands on him. He rolled over, pinned the orc to the ground and pulled until the neck broke with a snap.

"Amras!"

The last of the enemies realised he would be no match for an elven warrior and turned to flee, right at Dinessel, who ran back from the top of the ravine. The girl froze with his fingers clenched on her bow, unable to take a step.

Amras grabbed his knife and tossed it after the orc. Hit in the back, he made two more steps and fell.

"Is that all?" asked the son of Feanor, sitting up so that the trap didn't pull his leg. He was panting. "Dinessel!" he called softly, for the girl stared hypnotised at the orc dying at her feet. "I asked you a question."

"Y-yes"

"Good." Amras glanced at his leg and hissed furiously. "Kill it," he ordered. "I can't reach it and it may draw something nasty on our heads," he urged the girl, for she didn't move.

Dinessel stared at him, then at the orc. She swallowed hard and took a step back, ready to flee.

"Fear not," Amras sighed. "It won't hurt you, but may cause us trouble. You have a knife, take it and stab. You can do it."

He watched impatiently as the girl hovered over the orc, hesitated and tried to step back, then finally fulfilled his order under his glare. She jumped back with a disgusted cry and reached him with a few steps. Before Amras could do anything, she was kneeling beside him and hiding her face in his jacket. She was shaking like a leaf.

"How many did you get?" he asked, pretending that he didn't hear her sniffling. He pulled her into an embrace.

"Two," muttered the girl. "The rest came here. S-sorry."

"It's alright," Amras combed her hair. "I pushed you, but see? You managed."

"N-no."

"You did well," he praised her shortly and firmly moved her away. "Now find me a thick branch."

Dinessel went obediently, wiping her eyes. She vanished between the trees and Amras allowed himself a painful sigh when he touched the line of bloody holes above the trap's teeth. The way back to the camp was going to be long and unpleasant.

"These will do?" asked his companion, dragging two branches behind her. She stood over him, visibly uneasy at the prospect of helping again with the feral trap.

"They should," decided Amras after examining the branches. Some recent gale must have broken them, for they were still damp and full of withered leaves. "I'll manage alone, you go collect your arrows. Just make sure the orc is dead before you approach it, I don't want you to get stabbed."

Judging by Dinessel's expression, she wasn't sure if this order was better than assisting in the trap opening, but she climbed the ravine again and disappeared.

The steel claws were strong and his foot was getting numb. Amras placed the thinner of the branches between them and started levering, cursing as his fingers slipped on the blood. He had freed animals from such traps more than once, but never himself. Had lord Orome seen the cruel ways used to catch animals... Surprised by his own thoughts, which took him far back to the times when he had hunted with his older brothers in the Vala's forests, Amras shook his head and opened the claws to finally free himself. He let them close on the branch, more interested in the damage they had done to his leg.

xxx

The longer they walked, the farther away their destination seemed to be. They were silent most of the time. Dinessel carried her prize without a word of complaint, though it was a significant weight for her. Amras let her, though he could see her growing weariness. The success at the hunt was the only good thing that had happened this day and the youngest son of Feanor didn't want to discourage is ward at the very beginning. Her tension and his leg radiating with pain ruled out using the way back for any teaching. Amras preferred to focus on finding the easiest way and trying to control his anger. Dinessel was already upset enough.

Amras was furious at himself for this moment of carelessness when he ran after Dinessel to make sure their hunting would not turn into a disaster. With each step a searing pain reminded him of the trap and his foot pulled from the sole with an unpleasant sound. In any case, he should have been grateful the claws had not broken the bones and he told Dinessel as much when he caught her miserable glance, but it didn't lift her spirits.

They made a short break when Amras spotted a clump of fresh herbs growing between the remains of the previous year's. Alcarino valued their leaves and his supply diminished after winter. Right now they were an excellent excuse for a stop. Dinessel busied herself with collecting herbs they would later dry for the healer, and Amras picked some and placed them on his wounded calf to reduce the swelling.

In different reality this could have been a pleasant morning, realised Amras at some point as he watched his companion – in a spring forest, with the sun above their heads, with flowers for a circlet and with the stag for a dinner. Dinessel was back to him and the simple task of gathering herbs calmed her a bit. Still, she looked frightened and glanced back frequently, as if to make sure she was not alone. She seemed relieved when Amras motioned her to go.

They walked slowly, so the sun was high up on the sky when they finally reached the camp. Amras hoped they would meet someone from their company on their way, but most of the hunters had gone farther away than they had, so there was no one to free the girl from her weight. In the end Dinessel walked a few steps behind him, bent under the stag which she refused to abandon. When she saw the camp, she stopped with relief plain on her face.

Himeleth, who was standing guard at the southern side, was first to notice them. She glanced at Amras, then at the girl, who stumbled and regained balance at the last moment. Someone jumped and freed her from her weight and Dinessel stopped and straightened. Himeleth glanced again at the limping commander, then turned her attention towards the child. Dinessel stood motionless seemed too weary to take another step, which made the elleth wonder what had happened. Amras looked more furious than gravely wounded, so she asked freely.

"Again?"

"I have a puddle in my shoe," he snapped at her. "There," he pressed the herbs into her hands and limped to the stream.

"Any special occasion?" Himeleth called after him, but instead of following, she put an arm around Dinessel.

The girl shook from her stupor and rubbed her eyes. She accepted the invitation of her older companion and rested her forehead against her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Himeleth asked, though she knew that had the girl been harmed, Amras would have told her to take care of her.

"Mmm."

"Go wash yourself. If you wash your shirt now, it should dry in the wind before the evening comes," Himeleth told her and pointed at her stained sleeves and the front of her shirt.

Dinessel slipped reluctantly from her embrace and followed Amras to the stream. Himeleth found her a spare shirt. When the girl finished washing, she came to the fire barefoot to eat something. She grabbed her bowl and sat close to Amras, who was having his leg dressed. She paid little attention to what he was saying, and as soon as she was done eating, she curled beside him and fell asleep.

xxx

The groups of hunters returned one after another, bringing their preys. The camp bustled with chats and work; the meat had to be readied for drying, the skins and weapons had to be cleaned. Amras soon had enough of idleness and he joined in the work. His unfortunate adventure with Dinessel wasn't commented much, but each returning group stared and required at least a few words of explanation. Amras's foul mood stopped his friends from teasing him, though the whole situation, apart from the meeting with orcs, was rather absurd. If they commented anything, it was the visible improvement in Dinessel's reaction, compared to her earlier escape. Her devotion to Amras seemed the main reason, but it didn't matter. The girl deserved the praise, but heard none of it.

Amras realised that despite the noise his little ward was still sleeping where he had been sitting earlier. Neither talking nor bustle woke her. Her small form, with the cloak pulled over her head, reminded him of his nephew in his youth. After long hours of work Celebrimbor had tended to drop to sleep wherever he was and regardless to what was happening around. Where was he now? It had been long since he had last had any news of his nephew, but he suspected Celebrimbor had ran south with the rest of the people of Nargothrond. Did he know already about his father's death? He probably did, the refugees from Doriath had likely brought news.

"Amras?" Himeleth crouched by him, worried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the commander shook his head and rubbed his eyes, trying o chase away the image of his buried brothers. He didn't want to remember, didn't want to think how Celegorm would laugh at his mistake. He would give a lot to hear him now. He even caught himself waiting for his brother to return, with a deer on his shoulder and a hound by his leg.

"We should wake the little one," Himeleth pointed out. "It would be shame if she missed her first caught dinner."

"You gave her something to sleep, didn't you," realised Amras. "Why?"

"I watched her by the water," the elleth sat more comfortably. "She went to have a wash, but she was already half asleep. I could see her drift asleep only to sit back, all tensed and vigil."

"That's good. She will get the right reflexes," remarked Amras. Most of them were still alive thanks to them. "She may be afraid now, but she will be a good tracker. The sooner she learns, the better."

"She won't become anything if her tension puts her into more trouble," retorted Himeleth. "I don't think she slept at all last night, she was too frightened."

"She'll learn," repeated Amras, looking at the sleeping girl. She could be tiring with her tendency to follow his every step whenever he came to Amon Ereb, but her presence usually lifted spirits. "I thought she would not manage and run away today, but she did well. And at least she doesn't cling to my legs anymore," he tried, but judging from his companion's face, his smile was rather forced.

"A pity," the elleth summed up. "I liked her on the walls."

* * *

I admit I wondered whether to write about the last orc as "he" or "it". In the end I decided to call the orc 'it' when it was Amras speaking to show his contempt. Please correct me if I got that wrong.

The next chapter is already written, I should deal with it soon.


End file.
